Changed Into a Rebel
by arkanians
Summary: But was it for the better or worse? - AU, starts at Catching Fire and goes through Mockingjay. /For MJ, at the Christmas Fic Exchange at the RLt!


Delly Cartwright was one of the few children in District 12 who actually celebrated Christmas. Half of them didn't even know about it—Capitol propaganda was very effective—and the others simply didn't celebrate. The Seam kids in particular disliked it—for them, there was no hope and Christmas was simply a waste of materials and energy. The Peacekeepers didn't care enough to do anything about it. They figured that Christmas didn't equal uprising.

They may have been wrong.

"Hey, Delly," called Jenna, one of her friends from school. "What do you want for Christmas?" Jenna was also one of Delly's few people who celebrated it, and Delly was always sure to give Jenna an extra-special present to her.

"I'm not sure," admitted Delly. She hadn't given it much thought, especially with the Quarter Quell coming up. The pressure was really hard on her. She knew she wasn't going to be reaped, of course, but she knew Katniss was and was terrified for her. Especially since there was a good chance she was going in with Peeta. That would be awful for her...

"Well figure it out," Jenna smiled. "There isn't that much time."

"Okay, okay."

Delly knew what she really wanted for Christmas. She wanted escape from the Hunger Games.

xxx

That night, she opened her sketchbook. She liked drawing, and felt like it that night. Her mind drifted away and her pencil flashed across the pages. She looked down to see she had drawn a Mockingjay. How odd… she knew the Mockingjay was Katniss' token, and she knew about the… rebellious history of the bird, but she had never really thought about it. She embellished on the basic sketch, adding details like feathers, the exact curve of the wings, and the exact detailing on the feet. Delly, of course, had seen mockingjays many times, living in District 12. Perched on the rare telephone poles or singing brightly on the roofs of houses or shops.

She yawned. It was nearly 11:00. I'll color it in tomorrow, she thought, closing the spiral binding of the black sketchbook. She fell asleep quickly, the blankets over her, keeping her warm in the unusually cold spring night of District 12.

She dreamt of flame that night.

xxx

The Quarter Quell came around, and of course, Katniss was reaped, along with Haymitch. Peeta quickly volunteered, and that was that. No fuss, no muss, as her mother liked to say. The strange escort with her pink hair took Katniss and Peeta away, and Delly knew she wouldn't see them again.

xxx

"Cartwright, Delilah," called Mrs. Petrov. The elderly, cranky teacher had a rasping voice that Delly hated, but Mrs. Petrov was nice enough.

"Here."

"Irene Williams?"

"Here."

And so it went. School bored Delly for the most part—although she tried her best to be a good student, most of it was nonsense; nothing that would help her in real life. Most of the other students felt the same way, especially the ones from the Seam. They knew they were destined for work in the mines anyway. Schoolwork didn't matter to them, and the poorest got the worst grades. She knew she was lucky that she had wealth.

At lunch, her friend Elise came over to her. Pushing a lock of curly bright red hair behind her ear, she whispered in Delly's ear. "Listen. I heard from my parents that there's a rebellion going on in the underground of the Capitol. I've heard some of the Quarter Quell tributes are in on it."

"Really?" Delly was shocked. She knew she shouldn't be talking about this in school no less, but the idea was so shocking, so strange, that she couldn't help but ask for more. And Elise was a very good storyteller.

"Yes," continued Elise, a strange gleam in her eyes, "and District 8 is already beginning their uprising. We might be next."

Delly was shocked. Only in her absentminded daydreams had she ever thought of a rebellion- a full-scale rebellion. Everyone knew that the Peacekeepers were lenient, and that Katniss was even armed, but no one would ever actually rebel against the games or the Capitol. That would be absurd. "Are you sure?"

"Pretty much," she replied, "you know the connections my father has in the Capitol." The only other girl who had more connection than Elise was Madge, and Madge was the mayor's daughter.

"There's no way 12 could rebel though," replied Delly. "It's so small here."

"Who knows?" Elise shrugged. "8 isn't the biggest district either."

Suddenly, Delly realized lunch was over. If they were caught talking, especially about such crazy subjects, they would get in huge trouble. In class later, Elise gave her a wink.

The next week, she was executed.

xxx

A year later, District 12 was in chaos. With Johanna Mason, Beetee Winters, and Finnick Odair as the victors of the 75th Games, and the uprising in full swing, just like Elise predicted, Panem was in a state of insanity. And strangely enough, Delly, positive, cheerful Delly was the leader of it all, at least in District 12.

She wasn't so cheerful after she had killed her first Peacekeeper.

xxx

She was taken to District 13 by a hovercraft, just in time for Christmas. _Happy holidays, _Delly thought bitterly. Yay. Here to be District 13's pretty, cheery pawn. She knew exactly what was going on—a cynical, even nasty girl had replaced dull, innocent Delly. She knew exactly what was going on. She was going to be the figurehead of the rebellion while thousands of disposable soldiers would be killed. It disgusted her. She had only met the president once, but she realized the power-hungry, manipulative gleam in her eyes. She was always a social butterfly back in her childhood, and this gave her the people-skills that she needed to figure this whole scheme out. _We can destroy the Capitol, then have a Christmas party with the food hoards in the city! _She thought sardonically.

"Ms. Cartwright?" a general—she believed his name was Boggs—called in. "I need you downstairs in ten minutes exactly: President Coin needs to see you." Ah, that was her name: Coin. Reflective and cold, just like her demeanor.

Delly was alone in her drab room here in 13: her parents had died in a Peacekeeper shooting. She missed them terribly—she knew that the incident was part of the reason that she had become colder, more aloof. She didn't care. In order to survive in the harsh world, she had to be tough, intelligent, and possibly even ruthless. She (thought) she saw things clearer now.

Looking up at the digital clock, ten minutes had passed. She walked casually downstairs. Sure she was late, but what did it matter? They needed her: no one else was right for the job.

When she walked in the room, she felt Coin's eyes, like a laser, cold on her skin. "You're late," she scowled.

"Lost track of time," Delly said casually. She didn't care what Coin thought of her.

"Didn't Boggs go up to get you?" Coin interrogated her.

Delly just shrugged. "Yeah, but I lost track of time, like I said." She had to hold back the smirk ready to explode on her face.

"Fine. Anyway, I called you down for a… proposal."

"What sort of proposal?" Delly only allowed a tiny bit of sarcasm into her voice.

Coin cut straight to the point. "I want to make a series of commercials starring you, as the Mockingjay. We've found a way to hack into the Capitol networks, and we can show brief snips of footage to increase the rebellion's influence."

Delly was exasperated. "What are you going to show? Me sitting around 13?"

"Oh, no, I think we can come up with something more interesting than that…"

xxx

Delly was shoved into training, and became fairly skilled with a gun. Then, to her surprise, she was sent into the field. "If I die, then you've lost your Mockingjay," she protested.

"Oh, we have a special team behind you. You'll be okay."

Merry Christmas, Delilah. She was killed by a Capitol guard the next day, on December 25th.


End file.
